


The Wolf and the Stag

by Sanctioned_Chaos



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Minor Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Robb Stark is a Gift, Robb is pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 20:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctioned_Chaos/pseuds/Sanctioned_Chaos
Summary: Stannis's plan to kill Renly fails but that doesn't mean the younger is safe from losing the battle that follows. An unexpected ally comes to his rescue.





	The Wolf and the Stag

**Author's Note:**

> It's ironic that I mention Loras in this as I'm re-watching him and Marg's death with the fam.

The first time Renly Baratheon sees Robb Stark, is on the battlefield. His army was losing their battle against his older brother, when he saw a direwolf banner riding from the crest of the hill behind them, and another to the left of Stannis’s forces. The armies of the North had surrounded the enemy on two sides. The only way left was South back the way they came, or to the sea where they would drown without their ships.

 

His men were haggard and pale. They’d been ambushed in the night and forced to fight for several hours before the unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome, arrival of Robb Stark’s forces. It was true what the Lady Catelyn had said about his perception of the war. He’d seen it as a game, up until the very moment he was nearly killed by a shadow and a third of his original army was butchered by the same thing that had tried to murder him in his tent. Renly had been forced to meet Stannis on the battlefield with a force of men less in number than they had started with, and with less courage, their minds haunted by the thing in the night. He remembered hacking and cleaving at the soldiers attacking him, desperation bleeding through the exhaustion. His men doubled their fighting efforts, the adrenaline coursing through the Northern forces breathing life back into their weary bodies.

 

Renly heard the wolf before he saw it. A great howl rang through the crisp morning air, its high-pitched timbre catching the attention of all who heard it. Men nearby stopped their fighting to momentarily observe the scene. They took another moment to let what they saw sink in, the sight resulting in quiet awe.

 

Robb Stark crouched several yards away from where Renly had been fighting. His grin matched the giant wolf at his side, both of the two covered in the blood of the fallen. Renly would say he looked mad, completely animalistic, but that wouldn’t be the right description. Sure he had had his sword pointed out towards the men who circled around him and his canine companion- his aura and stance expressing a challenge- but there was clearly alertness in his eyes. He was poised so that at a glance he looked keen for someone to step up and fight him, but those who knew how to look would have been able to tell he was just as careful and cautious as he was eager. His direwolf growled lowly beside him, nipping at the heels of the men who began to step nearer.

 

When someone was finally stupid enough to continue forward, despite all evidence that the fight would not prove in his favor, the large animal leaped forward, mauling the man where he stood. It seemed the others around the two had gathered their courage and attempted to attack all at once.

 

They _attempted_.

 

Renly nearly took an axe to the side he was so distracted by the sight of Robb Stark rising from his crouch, dropping his sword to his side instead of pointed out, and casually standing in the center of the circle as his wolf pounced from one man to the other, disemboweling and dismembering them in a matter of seconds. One man eventually did make it past the wolf, though Renly doubted it was by luck and not intention, but he was cut down faster than any of them could blink. Stark merely began twirling his blade in his hand. Though he was clearly a man, at that moment he could have easily been mistaken as another wolf, eyes shining brightly with the spirit of the North.

 

Sadly, that was all Renly could have allowed himself to watch, and he’d lost sight of the man for the rest of the battle.

 

When next Renly Baratheon laid eyes upon Robb Stark, it was in his tent with the battle won and Stannis’s forces fleeing South.

 

He’d gone there immediately after their victory, Brienne following close behind. He might’ve been shaken by the number of close encounters he’d had during the course of the battle, but his mind was still on the memory of the scene with Stark and his wolf. Renly played it back over and over in his head, something about it inspiring fascination from him. He recalled all of it, the screams of men as they were bitten and clawed into, the smell of blood and iron in the air, and the awe etched on the faces of those who’d witnessed it- an expression he’d no doubt been wearing as well. None of it did justice to the Beauty *ehem* _Man_ \- that glided through the entrance of his tent the very next moment.

 

Robb Stark was gorgeous.

 

Not in the way Loras was with his long blonde locks and perfectly smooth everything. Not like the dashing prince who Renly loved sweeping off his feet. No, Robb Stark was wild. Dark brown hair- which Renly had firmly remembered to blaze like fire in the sunlight- stuck to a pale face, sharp angles and smooth slopes all at the same time. The seventeen year-old wasn’t smiling wolfishly like he had been on the battlefield, but he wasn’t frowning like Renly would have expected either. It was a small something of a victorious smirk, with all the proper serious undertones this meeting of theirs called for. He didn’t waltz into the room like Loras would have, he walked with all the grace and fluidity the direwolf beside him carried.

 

He seemed just a tad nervous, but otherwise, the King in the North showed his deference with a nod of his head. There was no coyness, like Loras would often exude, or any form of mocking bow, as Loras tended to do(all in good humor of course). There couldn’t be, not with this being their first real interaction, much less in front of Brienne and a couple Northmen who’d come in with Stark. He wasn’t half-cleaned like Loras would have already been either. Blood still stained his dark leather, thick crimson liquid caked on the brown furs at Stark’s nape. His direwolf was quieter than he’d imagined. Renly knew not all the rumours and legends could be true, but for a beast of such size, he would have expected more growling.

 

“King Renly Baratheon, I believe you know who I am.”

 

Slightly accented words entered his ears and pulled Renly from his wandering thoughts. All the decorum taught to him as a young child kept him from shaking himself in surprise.

 

“The King in the North, Robb of House Stark. Yes, I know who you are.”

 

It was silent for a moment before Renly continued.

 

“Although… I can’t say I was expecting you.”

 

Somehow, Stark’s smirk grew just a tiny bit more daring. Renly had the strong feeling he was even more beautiful when he was comfortable.

 

“Would you rather we stayed away, your Highness?” The Northmen at his side snorted loudly and Brienne’s had went to her sword to defend his honor, but Renly only raised his hand to block her weapon.

 

His honor was completely fine, rather, his interest was piqued. So the King in the North had a sense of humour? He stored the information for use at a later date. Renly directed his own amused smirk at the strangers before him.

 

“I can’t say my men wouldn’t slaughter me themselves if you hadn’t intervened.” He frowned a bit at this, remembering the frantic clamor of their battle.

 

“I must admit, we placed ourselves at quite the disadvantage.”

 

“You are in the North now, little Baratheon, and the ways of the North are vastly different from your flowery South.” The bigger warrior standing beside Stark spoke up, gruff voice noticeably dissimilar to his own smooth baritone.

 

He couldn’t stop Brienne from biting out:

 

“You will address my liege with the title befitting him, not by some foolish namesake, Ser, or you will see yourself from my presence.”

 

The large man took a step forward at the threat, body growing ever greater, but a hand at his front stopped any action he would have taken.

 

“Lord Umber, I don’t believe your further appearance is necessary for this meeting. And you as well, Lord Glover. I should like to talk to King Renly alone.”

 

The two Northmen looked positively affronted and were opening their mouths to protest loudly when Renly himself spoke up.

 

“King Robb?” He questioned, dark eyebrows raising themselves at Stark’s words.

 

“I had hoped to discuss business with you my lord, but it seems my men will be incapable of keeping the peace should they remain.” After saying this he turned his attention towards the Northmen beside him. “My lords, whatever subjects I discuss with his Kingship, should they be at all controversial or problematic for the men or ourselves, shall be brought to your attention immediately. Beyond that, trust in your king to make certain the alliance of House Stark to House Baratheon is a fair and just one.”

 

Renly couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but there was definitely something else Stark was trying to tell his men- something that said they needed to respect the King they’d named and the King they’d allied themselves to. While King Robb dealt with his men, Renly gave Brienne the go ahead to leave them. She looked to be debating on voicing her firm rejection of the idea, but he only set his jaw at her persistence. Any longer and he’d take it as an insult against his person. Thankfully, she nodded her head at his command, although it was painfully obvious that leaving was the farthest thing from her original intentions.

 

When their audience had left, all three cursing underneath their breath, both Renly and Robb released twin sighs of relief. They looked up at each other, surprised to share the feeling. Brown eyes met blue and Renly lost his breath for the second time.

 

“That turned out better than I had expected.” Stark offered lightly, trying for a small smile to ease the tension.

 

“How did you expect it to turn out.”

 

“Lord Umber proving to be just as large of a brute as the rumours have stated, Lord Glover doing nothing to stop him, and well-you and I trying frantically to stop the former and your Lady Brienne from coming to blows.”

 

Reply grimaced slightly at the mental image his description conjured.

 

“That would have been very regrettable indeed.”

 

Robb nodded imperceptibly, gaze not quite meeting Renly’s before blue eyes met brown again, a glint of suspicion in cerulean depths.

 

“Would it acceptable of me to address you as Renly in private, my lord? Or will you insist I call you King?”

 

“Last I checked you were King as well, Lord Stark. I don't see any problems should we drop all titles when in each other's company.” He smiled at the man opposite him.

 

“Renly will be just fine… Robb.”

 

The small smile that met him in reply knocked the breath from out of his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my pocket for a while but it's taken me this long for me to be like "ah screw it, we'll figure it out as we go" except who knows where this is gonna go honestly


End file.
